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As soft and strange as a dream, *Spirited Away* is like all the wonderful children’s books that fired my imagination as a kid, before my head got saturated by fantasy clichés and almost anything could surprise and delight and startle me.
Hypnotic in its lunacy and sorta plaintive in its depiction of blustery patheticness, *Confessions* doesn’t even try to pretend that its protagonist is mentally ill… just crazy. It’s sad, and it’s hilarious, no matter how you take it. Either that *Gong Show* guy Chuck Barris was so insecure and so bored with his own life that he made up a story about being an assassin for the CIA, which is pitiful yet amusing, or Barris really *was* an assassin for the CIA, which means the world is even more fucked up than any of us knew, which is downright, insanely funny.
Their *Chicago* — based on the stage musical by John Kander, Fred Ebb and Bob Fosse — is utterly singable, danceable, cheerable, with musical numbers that straddle the unwillingness of today’s movie audiences to suspend our disbelief about movie characters breaking into song unless they’re Disney lions or talking candelabra.
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